Many stories have been told - and much better than this one - regarding "Blind Spot". I don't know why, but this little (and I mean little) vignette outlining Bobby's feelings during that saga popped into my head and demanded to be written. Love it or hate it, just please continue to be kind! These characters are not mine, not profiting, you know the drill. Enjoy!
Eames was gone.
No, Bobby's mind resisted. Not gone. Missing.
Gone was too permanent. Too...forever.
No, "gone" was an unacceptable term.
As he stood at the sink in the bathroom at One Police Plaza, Bobby tried to avoid the mirror at all costs. The fear he saw in his eyes further distracted him when he needed his wits, his intellect the most.
But this wasn't a puzzle. It wasn't just another game. No matter how Declan Gage had tried to convince him otherwise.
Fuck! Fuck it all to hell.
He was aimless chaos. It was not until now that he realized that, with the exception of his Army stint, that his life was a jumble, since childhood, pitching and weaving from one drama to the next.
Alex Eames was the stabilizing force he never knew he needed, that he craved, until he was without her. She marshaled his flights of fancy that swirled in his head. She tethered him. That steadiness was vital in allowing him to focus on the puzzles that were the crimes they solved.
Now...now she was absent, and he felt stark desperation in knowing he had to find her and put all of his wisdom and focus into the task. But without her anchor, that rudderless feeling once more threatened to consume him whole, when she needed him to use his skills the most.
I can't fail her.
The alternative sent him down the darkest place in his mind, a place he knew well, but had - for his own sake - walled off for his own sanity. But a world without Eames was...inconceivable. Desolate.
It was wrong.
In the midst, he had to deal with his - their - new boss.
Ross was no Deakins, which was a further hurdle.
Deakins trusted them to do what needed doing and left him and Eames alone.
But, in Bobby's mind, Danny Ross was a political fame hog and had to hover. He insisted on going with him as the SWAT team invaded Eames' home, when they later found Eames' phone on Declan, and, most of all, when Eames' car had been discovered in the police parking garage. On first thought, Bobby just wanted to be alone when he popped that trunk, expecting...expecting...
His mind could not even finish that thought. Still, maybe it was for the best that Ross was there, because it distracted him from the sick guilt he felt at the...unimaginable relief and smidgen of joy he felt when the blank face staring back at him was a stranger's.
God help him. He was glad!
But that joy was short-lived because he still had no idea where Eames - Alex - was, and he had no idea how to help her. Where to look. How to start. His laser-focused single-mindedness had absconded.
He had gone a few more rounds with Declan until he had lost what control he had and shoved him, demanding to know where Eames was. From the look on Declan's face, Bobby knew that Declan knew...that he knew...
A violent shake of his head, the cold sweat now his constant companion.
He had no idea how to breathe anymore.
Finally seeing his tired, stressed, terrified face in that dirty mirror under the buzz of the harsh lighting for what seemed like the first time, Bobby gave a wobbly sigh. Nausea threatened to overwhelm. Gripping the sink until his trembling hands turned white, he lowered his head, and squeezed his eyes shut.
Shit. I don't know what to do. Oh, Alex, I'm so fucking sorry.
That realization would have been his undoing if not for Danny Ross' voice filtering in, standing in the doorway of the bathroom.
"Goren, they found her."
His voice failed him, the agony pierced his gut, swam in his head.
With that, the world went from monochrome to technicolor once more. His trembling stopped. He wanted to cry again. This time from profound relief.
Alex Eames was alive.
Later, Bobby would comment on her fighting spirit that kept her alive. But in the moment he learned Alex survived. he thanked a God he had not truly believed in, and ran out, needing to get to her. Needing to see her, hear her, feel her.
She survived and in doing so, he did, too.
Nothing else mattered.